Darkness Which You Know You Cannot Fight
by AngelofSilence1881
Summary: When Gwenn, a young Phantom Phanatic and her romantic interest, James, are haunted by a posessed Mask, how will they escape when He comes to call, and uses James as the phone?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Poker Mask

Gwenn looked up over her cards at her opponent across the table. Well you couldn't really say they were opponents, seeing as how Gwenn had never played poker before and was losing. _Horribly_. James just smiled at her, that gorgeous, wicked smile that said _I've got you now, my pretty_.

It was an infuriating smile.

James set his cards face down on the table and stretched like a lazy cat. He pushed his seat back from the table and got up to explore the room. Gwenn just glared at him as he walked over to her _Phantom of the Opera_ collection and toyed with her masks.

"Do you _have_ to mess with my things?" Gwenn growled.

He just looked back at her and grinned. "Well if you're going to take forever trying to do the math of it, I might as well entertain myself."

Gwenn saw only a moment too late what he had picked up and was about to put on his face.

"No, James don't, _don't!_"

But it was too late. He had raised the white porcelain half mask to his face and put it on. It fit him perfectly and suddenly, James was no longer in the room.

Now, only _He_ stood there before her.

They were the same height, the same weight, but _He_ was just so much more than James had been, and would probably ever be.

James' hair had been nearly as long as Gwenn's, to her waist, and had been a lush brown. _His_ hair was short, slicked back, and the deepest black Gwenn had ever seen.

The eyes that stared into her blue eyes now were not teddy-bear brown, but a smoldering green-gold, and they held her pinned to her chair with such heat that she felt she would burst into flames if _He_ stared much harder.

_Those eyes that burn . . ._

_He_ smiled, and Gwenn thought she would drown in that smile. But she was wrong, because it wasn't _His_ smile that drowned her.

It was _His_ voice.

"Hello, my Angel . . ."

Gwenn's heart was racing and in a moment _He_ was behind her, a lock of gold hair in _His_ hand. _He_ pressed _His_ face into the silky lock and breathed deeply, relishing the scent of her.

Gwenn was sure she was going to die any moment now from the fever that was building inside of her. She swallowed hard and regained her voice.

"_Why have you brought me here . . ._"

Gwenn blinked and _He_ was on one knee in front of her, one hand on her thigh, the other cupping her chin.

"Why, did you think I would leave my precious little _Ingénue_ for good? You knew he would put it on, and now I will always be there, singing songs in your head My Dear."

_He_ rose to _His_ feet, pulling Gwenn up with _Him_.

In a moment _He_ pressed _His_ mouth to hers, drawing away all strength she had left.

As her body collapsed against _His_, she had just enough strength left to reach up and cupped _His_ masked cheek in her hand.

_He_ leaned into the caress and realized only too late what her true intention had been.

Gwenn stared at _His_ scarred face for only a moment as he roared with anger and disappeared.

James stared down in confusion. Why was he holding Gwenn? Why was she clutching the Phantoms Mask to her heart?

"Gwenn? What-?"

"_He'll always be there, Singing songs in my head . . ._"


	2. Chapter 2

BWAHAHAHA! It is alive! Yes, yes hello all you wonderful people who have read my story! I give you: CHAPTER TWO! Yes, thanks to all your wonderful encouragement, I have decided to continue this maudlin little tale! I do hope you enjoy the next chapter, and fear not! More to come!

Oh, and because I forgot to say it earlier, I do not own Phantom or any of its affiliates. I wish I did, but I don't. I also don't own James, mores the pity, cause he's HOT! I only own myself and the plot of this story, so DON'T SUE!

To view James Douglas in all his sexy Scottish glory, follow this link: is a real person I know and have bitten! OMG!

DragonheartRAB: Glad to hear it interests you, here's your update!

Nixiharpist: Many thanks! I love your name!

Aria688: Well, I'm trying, and I hope you enjoy it.

tink8812: "Freaky"? "Love it"? Swoot! Many thanks! Here's your official Erik-chan plushie!

viggosloof28: SQUEE! GlOmP! I'm so glad you liked it Caroline! I miss you! I wanna read your story! I

would love to be your beta-reader! Squee! I can't wait to hang out again! Gives you an Eric-chan plushie Thank you!

Willow Rose: Many thanks M'Lady!

OMGUrcousin: "What would James say?"? Oh my God, I'm afraid to find out! He might hurt me! Or cackle maniacally, which ever. I fear the laughter more, though . . .

Chapter 2: Unholy Silence 

It couldn't have been a more lovely evening. James opened to front door of _Giovanni's_ for Gwenn with a sweeping bow, ushering her inside.

"After you, Mademoiselle."

Gwenn giggled and moved inside, James right on her heels. "We're in an Italian restaurant and you're using _French_? How very vogue of you."

He just grinned and siddled up beside her, snaking an arm around her waist. "Hey, can't blame a guy for trying, can you?"

Gwenn gave him a sexy little _resist me if you dare!_ look and purred "Maaaaaaybe…."

James caught himself on the wall before he landed on his face. He'd tripped over his shoes, you see.

A waiter seated them and took their drink orders. Gwenn ordered lemonade and almost slapped James when he tried to order a Smirnoff. She reminded him in a dangerously low voice that he was driving. He nervously changed his order to Sprite.

Gwenn read silently through her menu, not sure what to order.

_Hmmm, pasta primavera, cannaloness, three cheese ravioli_….

The soft sounds of the little Berkeley restaurant flitted past Gwenn's ears: People talking, flatware chinking gently against dishes, the mournful strains of a violin pouring its wooden soul into some operatic requiem that made her want to cry. Returning to her menu, Gwenn was relieved when the unhappy strains turned to a familiar love song that she couldn't help but sing softly to while James rambled on about something or other.

_Nighttime sharpens . . ._

The other restaurant patrons seemed to be just as absorbed as Gwenn, because the room suddenly became much quieter.

_Deathly_ quiet.

Suddenly, Gwenn realized that the pattern of her own breathing had changed, due to the fact that her black plaid dress had now become a simple black cotton gown, complete with corset and bloomers.

And the only sound she could hear was the strains of Music of the Night on the violin.

_His_ violin.

_Oh fuck_.

Gwenn set down her menu, which immediately disappeared, and stared across the ornate black mahogany table and candles at _Him_, sitting there, _His_ eyes locked on hers, playing a beautiful golden oak violin, for all the world looking like _The Devil Went Down to Georgia_.

Gwenn took a deep, shaking breath and squared her shoulders.

"Hello Erik. What a . . . ._pleasant_ surprise. Do tell, is it sweet seduction or a raging fire in the soul you'll use on me tonight?"

Erik merely grinned as his Violin disappeared.

"Why is it, My Angel, that you always assume that all I feel for you is lust? You imply that all I want is carnal fulfillment. Which is the furthest thing from the truth, My Love, believe me."

Gwenn rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Fine then, what _do_ you want, Erik?"

She blinked and he was gone. Gwenn jumped three feet when a skeletal hand came to rest on her collar bone and a seductive voice next to her ear whispered "Why, merely to be near you, My Love. Your very presence is . . . ._Intoxicating_."

A gasp escaped her lips as his hand brushed over her heart. Gwenn jumped up and rounded on him. She slapped him hard across his unmasked cheek and glared at him balefully.

"Never, I repeat, _Never_ touch me that way again!"

He merely stood in slightly shocked silence for a minute, head tilted far to his left.

He turned and looked at her full on, breaking out into a slightly crazed grin.

"You _touched_ me . . ."

He lunged at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and kissing her fervently.

Gwenn pushed away from him, gasping for air. She slapped him again.

"_OW!_ Damnit Gwenn, what'd I _do_?"

Gwenn stared in absolute horror at James, who had his hand clasped against his sore red cheek.

"_I can't escape from Him, I never will . . ._"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Shadows in the Mind

Gwenn lay back on her bed, dressed in a long, black satin nightgown. Her hair lay in an angelic halo around her head and shoulders, and her crystal blue eyes were locked on the mask she held above her face. She extinguished the last light in the room, closed her eyes and put the mask on. It was time They talked on her terms.

Gwenn opened her eyes and looked around. Nothing had changed. She stood at the top of a spiraling stone staircase that vanished into the darkness of a great cavern. Somewhere far below she heard the drip of water and the faint sounds of an organ being played. Gwenn looked down at what she was wearing.

"Of course . . ."

Gwenn rolled her eyes in exasperation at the white corset, split skirt, dressing gown and stockings, all made of lace, that she was wearing. He was trying to make her feel delicate and fragile, but he would not succeed. Gwenn thought hard for a moment about what she should really be wearing, until her clothing matched her mood.

The corset remained, though it was now black instead of white, and the revealing lace skirt had become layers of black tulle and gauze in a floor-length tutu, strategically torn and ripped here and there. Gone was the lace dressing gown, and in its place was a black velvet cloak, the hood covering her mane of pale curls. And finishing the outfit off were opera-length fishnet gloves and black satin toe shoes, put into a permanent point by 7-inch spike heels. The outfit made her small, slender form taller and a bit menacing, which was how Gwenn felt.

Taking a deep breath, Gwenn took her first step down that path in over a year.

Down five stories to the lowest cellar of this place, and all the while, a haunting tune playing in her head.

_Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair . . ._

At the bottom of the stairs waited a small boat on the shore of a lake. She climbed into the boat, and it moved out onto the lake by itself.

_Down I plunge to the prison of my Mind . . ._

Soon, another shore, lit with hundreds of candles came into view.

_Down that path into darkness deep as Hell . . ._

The boat came to a stop on the shore. Gwenn climbed out and walked up a few steps and came to a halt behind a grand mahogany throne with red velvet cushions. And sprawled apon that throne was a vision of desire and mystery.

He was clad in nothing but a thin white shirt, fully open around his slender chest, a pair of tight black pants and above the knee black leather boots. And of course, covering the right side of his face was the Mask he always wore.

He hadn't noticed her yet, so Gwenn just waited and watched for a moment, as he was obviously deep in thought as he twirled a red rose in his hand. Finally though, the silence got to her, and she spoke.

"_I remember there was mist, _

_swirling mist apon a vast glassy lake,_

_there were candles all around_

_and in the lake there was a boat,_

_and in the boat there was . . ._

_a . . ._

_Man . . ._"

He had stopped moving. Just stopped.

Then, he rose to his feet and turned to look at her, and for a moment he just stared, surprised and even a little hopeful.

"You haven't come here since . . . Well, since you met _That Boy_."

"Well, real life got in the way. That happens sometimes."

His piercing green-gold eyes and silken voice became cold as ice.

"You had every opportunity to come here, to come to Me, but every time you had a choice, you chose _That Boy_ over me!"

He watched her for a moment, but when he received no response his face fell and he ran his hands tiredly through his hair.

"It's just that . . . . You brought me here, gave me this place to live, and then forgot about me. You denied me and betrayed me."

Gwenn closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She walked past him, up the short flight of stairs and disappeared into the Black Swan bedroom. A moment later he followed after her, slightly confused.

He rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and pulled aside the red velvet curtain and was stunned by what he saw.

Gwenn lay lounged on the swan bed, her cloak thrown to the side. She stared at him with gentle eyes, and slowly raised her open arms to him.

"_Come to me, Strange Angel_ . . . ."

He moved slowly twards the bed, his long, sensual hands shaking slightly. He curled down beside her on the bed, his arms entwined about her waist and his head apon her heart. Her slender arms coiled around his shoulders, and for quite some time they lay there in a tender silence. But all silence must end sometime.

"Erik, I'm so sorry that I pushed you to the side. It was wrong of me to do."

"I forgive you, My Angel. Do not worry, for soon, all will be made right again. Very soon, My Angel."

Gwenn closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. When next she looked, it was morning and she lay in her bed, once more in her own room, cradling a blood red rose with a black satin ribbon to her heart.

"_Somehow I know He's always with me_ . . . ."

* * *

MWAHAHAHAHA!

And you thought this story was nothing but angst! Here I give you FLUFF!

So yeah, I finally got off my happy ass and updated, you may now proceed to throw stones at me for being lazy.

And now, for announcements: There will only be one more chapter and an epilogue after this, I am sorry to say. However, I will soon be starting another story, and I invite you the readers to have your very own cameos! Just send me an email with the description of how you would like to be portrayed and tell me what level of Phan you are for Erik, Christine, and Raoul. Nextly, I would like to give a great big Birthday shout-out to Viggosloof28, who is now 18! Yay! And now, for Review Replies!

Dove of Night: You weren't going to read it? Well I'm glad you did! Teehee!

Willow Rose: Thank you Rose, you're one of my favorite reviewers.

Viggosloof28: Yay! I lurv you too! I'm so glad you like the story so far! And happy birthday!

Wandering Child24: Well, I'm glad you like it, and here's your update.


	4. Chapter 4

To all the wonderfull people who enjoyed this estranged little story of mine, an apology. I am terribly sorry to have left you wanting for so long, but a long and drawn out series of events has pulled me far far away from the writing I love to do. A few years ago James and myself had a falling out, and while we were truly never more than friends, it was still painful and caused me to throw this story into a far and dusty corner to be forgotten. But recently while going through an old box of my things in my parents attick, I came across an old floppy disc simply labelled, Phantom. It was the first three chapters of this story and it brought me right back here to all of you. So once again, I apologize for forgetting you all, and even though James no longer has a place in my life, he still has a place in this story.

The Show Must Go On.

**Love Can Be Decieving**

_Five Years Earlier….._

Gwenn could not believe her luck. She had been wandering around San Fran all day doing her christmas shopping and just when she was about to give up on finding Karoline a gift she stumbled across this quaint, gothic little shop huddled back from the main street, filled with antique french imports. How perfect! Gwenn poked her head into every corner of the shop, ooo-ing and ahh-ing at the bird cages, mirrors, steamer trunks and other nicnacs. She finally settled on a stunning black glass perfume bottle, fringed with silver filigree. She turned to go to the register and almost jumped out of her skin when she found an ancient, almost toothless little old woman standing behind her. She grabbed Gwenn's wrist and dragged her to the back of the store. The old woman released her captive and handed her a small item wrapped in brown paper and twine.

"_You take, oui? Is for you, you take."_

Gwenn began to open the package but the old woman grabbed her wrist with a vice-like grip.

"_No! You take! You take, oui!"_

"Ok, alright! I'll take it! How much for these?"

Gwenn got home and dropped all of her purchases on the couch. She flopped down beside them and sighed tiredly, what a day! And that old woman, what was her deal! Gwenn looked over at the little bag and gingerly drew out the package. She weighed it in her hand, trying to figure out what it was. A book? A mirror? Only one way to find out. Gwenn untied the simple knot and slowly unwrapped the brown paper and what she held in her hand drew and gasp of delight. It was perfect, an exact replica! The white porcelain half mask was beautiful. But the more she looked at it, the stranger it seemed. There was a light feathering of cracks under the top layer of laquer, and the edges of the mask were worn smoothe, as if from years and years of being put on and removed. Was it an actual antique? It seemed so old, but there were no real records of this type of mask being worn during that era. The more Gwenn stared at the mask, the more it confused her. And then the strange compulsion came over her, and why she did it, she could not understand when she thought about it later. All Gwenn knew was that one moment she was holding the mask and the next, it was on her face, and her world went black.

"Oh god, my head. Where am I?"

"Do not fear My Angel, you are safe."

Gwenn opened her eyes slowly. She did not recognize her surrounding, yet they were somehow familiar. She tried to sit up and almost knocked herself out again when her seat began to rock. When she finally got vertical she realized she was sitting in a gondola.

_A gondola? Why the fuck am I in a gondola?!_

"Such profanity My Angel, even if it is in your head, is so unbecoming of a Diva."

Gwenn turned quickly in the direction of the voice and the sight that met her eyes was unbelievable. The gondola was moored at the edge of a vast underground lake and the shore that sprawled out before her was a sea of candles and victorian funiture and velvet curtains. And the focal point of it all was The Man. Tall, dark, slender with short slicked-back black hair and wearing a perfectly tailored victorian suit. But what truly caught her breath in her throat were His Eyes, like smoldering green-gold fire, one eye lighting the half-mask from behind.

"Oh god, oh my god, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming…"

He smiled, just barely, all the darkness of the night held in that slight tilting of His lips. He stepped forward and offered Gwenn his hand. For some reason she could not fathom, she took it, and He lifted her from the gondola and encircled her in His arms.

"Believe me Darling Christine, this is no dream."

Gwenn had barely enough strength to whisper:

"My name is not Christine."

He smiled, dark, seductive and just a little bit mad.

"It is now."

And her vision went dark.

I dearly hope that this sheds some light on how Gwenn and the Phantom came to know each other and I hope you all enjoyed this. I'm hoping to wrap the story up in one more chapter and an epilogue so please, stay tuned.


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